“There is something horrible about a flower;This, broken in my hand, is one of thoseHe threw it in just now; it will not live another hour;There are thousands more; you do not miss a rose.”

“In spite of all the dishonour,the broken standards, the broken lives,The broken faith in one place or another,There was something left that was more than the talesOf old men on winter evenings.”

“...we've already had one horrible thing happen today, which means that if you think about it the odds of anything else horrible happening again in the next few hours should now be quite low.”

“What might not be there are the chances you have right now. If you can hold on another hour, another day - if you can live one more good, honorable minute - those are the victories. And they open up the whole world.”

“I DID my life - one thing to do after another, always something else to do. Because you don't need a heart to DO, but you do need one to live.”

“There must be another life, she thought, sinking back into her chair, exasperated. Not in dreams; but here and now, in this room, with living people. She felt as if she were standing on the edge of a precipice with her hair blown back; she was about to grasp something that just evaded her. There must be another life, here and now, she repeated. This is too short, too broken. We know nothing, even about ourselves.”